


Seasons

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-26
Updated: 2006-07-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron is never out of season.





	Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written in response to the prompt "sunburn" over at Checkmated.  


* * *

She had always found Ron to resemble a season.

Sometimes he was like spring. He would wake up full of energy and ready to go get into some mischief, just like the new calves that lived in a field near the Burrow. He would bound from the loo, fresh from a shower, with his hair wild and wet and he trailed scent of fresh sunshine and growing things behind him.

Sometimes he was like the hot, lazy, dog days of summer. That season had always made her feel a bit more open and free to slow down if she so chose. Ron could open her up and slow her down better than anyone when he tried hard enough. He could give her one look from across the common room and suddenly she would like the humidity was rising and she had a sunburn.

Sometimes he was like autumn. His hair was the exact color of the leaves on a tree that stood outside of Hermione’s bedroom back home. When he blushed, his cheeks looked almost wind-burnt by the crisp, late-September air. After eating pumpkin pie or drinking cider, he would smell like all good things Hermione liked to eat during the autumn. She sometimes swore that he was, indeed, as good as cider.

Rarely, however, was Ron like winter. He was never cold to her, never dying. Even as they got older together, he was more like a mixture of all the seasons. His hair was turning into cinnamon and sugar, but he still had that springtime energy and vivacity. He even retained that summertime ability to slow her down and make her feel the humidity.

Yes, Ron was like the seasons.  



End file.
